I arrived in Dallas in 1980. How many of you can go back there with me?
The Dallas Jewish Community Center was quite different from what it is now. My husband and I joined quickly, mainly because we could play ping-pong there. I don’t see any table any more.
However, I was intrigued by what was going on in that area of the first floor to the immediate left, as you enter. What is now a major meeting room was then a sort of “warren,” a string of places to pass through. At the far back was the first home of the Dallas Jewish Historical Society. It housed one desk, one file cabinet and some beautiful prints sent by the company that supplied tulip bulbs; selling them yearly was the organization’s only fundraiser. (I’ve often wondered who got those prints, and who has them today. If you know, or are that person, please confess.)
In the middle was a sort of reading room: Large tables, racks of newspapers, some tall shelving units holding reference books — most of them Jewish. In the front, you were in the library. Not much of a library, as libraries go; now we have the full-scale Tycher Library on the second floor. But then, that was it. Some shelved books, and a rack of old paperbacks that were routinely given away. This little haven for readers was presided over by Judy Borejdo. I walked in there one day wearing a T-shirt I’d gotten on a recent trip to Australia; Judy recognized it right away as the design of a friend of hers. That’s how I learned this ersatz “librarian” had a fascinating history. It vanished very recently, with Judy’s death.
After the JCC’s remodeling, after a real library was created on the second floor, Judy followed it upstairs. She was not a professional librarian, but nobody had more interest in books than she did. That’s why she had the task of running that mini-library on the first floor, likely as a volunteer. I’m sure nobody else wanted to do it.
Things were different in the new environment. There were computers, comfortable chairs and separate spaces for adults and children. And suddenly, there was so much activity. A committee was organized to help direct the new library’s policies and programming, there were memberships solicited at various levels and someone — not Judy — was named as director. But Judy stayed on, using her remarkable knowledge of books and what readers would like to see on the new shelves. Finally, a professional librarian was hired, and much that had been hands-on and informal before became more routine. Still, Judy remained.
Soon after the start of this year, I led a book discussion in the library. Judy was there. Judy had arranged it, as she had arranged a calendar of book discussions throughout the years, from the library’s move and growth until just a short while ago. Always frail, never completely healthy, Judy became very sick. Soon, she was terminal. She was no longer in the library. Finally, she left us permanently. There was so much rain on the day of her funeral, I had to believe that the skies were crying for her, reminding us of our loss.
The Tycher Library is an underused gem on the JCC’s second floor. There’s even an elevator to make access easier. But not so many people read books any more, as e-readers have replaced words on paper between covers for a good many. But if you knew Judy at all, or even if you didn’t, please do me a favor and make that trip upstairs in her honored memory. See what she — a true book-lover — helped bring about. Hold a book, a real book, in your hands and think of Judy Borejdo. She worked hard. She deserves to be remembered. She will be greatly missed by all of us who still read books.